


glory box

by hingabee



Series: basic ____ [6]
Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, M/M, Oral Sex, PIV Sex, Piercings, Smoking, Unprotected Sex, dubcon, its just really bad :(, toxic relationships/mindsets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 16:27:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19360561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hingabee/pseuds/hingabee
Summary: "Everybody in this facility is afraid of you.”Mantis scoffs. “Except for you, of course.”“Please, I canbarelycontain my fear.”





	glory box

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aireyv](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aireyv/gifts).



> this is a belated bday gift for @aireyv, i hate this and it hurt me to write it pls go and complain to them for making me suffer

„You don‘t happen to have a smoke on hand, Agent? It’s been a while for me, you see.”  
  
Sighing disdainfully Mantis reaches for his bag and digs out two cigarettes and throws one at Wilson. He makes a show of lighting his own with his little finger perked up fancily – as if he is drinking a cup of tea instead of being about to engage in something he knows is just going to end badly.  
  
Wilson smiles from his chair. “Will you do me the honours?”  
  
“This could get both of us into trouble, you know?” Mantis grumbles as he gets up to ignite the other man’s cig, but not without letting the flame lick up Wilson’s wrist dangerously.  
  
“Nice trick you got there!” Wilson takes a deep drag and grins mischievously. “But I honestly doubt that anyone cares about the two of us going a bit off protocol – there’s worse things happening down here, trust me.”  
  
“What kind of _things_ are you talking about?”  
  
A hearty chuckle and he is left ignored. “Are you just going to drop ashes on my new carpet or take off that mask of yours? Enjoy yourself a little, Agent.”  
  
“When do I ever enjoy myself around you?” Mantis grimaces behind heavy plastic and lets the cigarette in his hand bloom into a fiery red flower. “I just like playing with fire, that’s all.”  
  
“ _Oh,_ I’ve noticed.”  
  
–  
  
“Can’t you at least do it by the window?”  
  
“No, I do not want people to see my face.”  
  
Eli groans and buries his head in the pillow. “There‘s nobody out at this time – and if there was people wouldn’t care.” His voice is muffled against the dyed linen and Mantis coldly smiles at his friend’s theatrical behaviour.  
  
“It’s just a little smoke, I even got the menthol ones because the smell isn’t as bad. Stop whining.”  
  
“Those are _worse_!”  
  
Shrugging nonchalantly, Mantis walks towards the bed and sits next to Eli to exhale directly against his temple. The following hiss is much expected, less so the hand that grabs Mantis by the shoulder to pull him closer.  
  
“You are obnoxious.” Eli growls into his face. “I’m already having a bad day, so you might as well try to cheer me up or piss off completely – I’m not in the mood for your silly little games!”  
  
Mantis smirks and feels his stitches pull at the corners of his mouth as he takes another drag, Eli’s grip still firm on him, not giving him the benefit of a doubt or loosening up anytime soon. Even through the puffs of smoke his friend looks tired; bloodshot, tired eyes and messy hair that is standing up in dirty strands, desperate for an imminent washing.  
  
He really shouldn’t, but Mantis can not help himself and catches one of those locks to pull it back behind Eli’s ear. The reaction seems unsure – Eli frowns but does not bare his teeth anymore, instead opting out to chew on the inside of his cheek which makes him look like a pouting child.  
  
“How would one even attempt to cheer you up, though?” He teases and provocatively keeps blowing smoke into the other’s face. “You tend to be _so_ moody… “  
  
Finally Eli lets go of him to slap his hand away and snatch the cigarette from him, puts it out against the bed frame. “At least try to pretend you care.” He mumbles and turns away again.  
  
Somewhere he has miscalculated, Mantis is aware – the cheeky teasing that usually works so well on his friend not applicable tonight, leaving them even more tense and putting the responsibility to resolve this issue into Mantis’ hands alone.  
  
He stares at Eli for a moment, then shrugs off his shirt.  
  
–  
  
Wilson’s touch feels alien when he grabs Mantis waist to turn him around, but it is not new by any means.  
  
He does not even flinch; he let this happen, it is his responsibility – if he wanted the man would be dead within seconds, writhing and choking at his feet. But he does not.

  
“You haven’t been subtle lately… “ Wilson drawls and brushes his thumb over Mantis neck, feels the pulse of his carotid artery. “My poor Agent. You are so lonely… “  
  
The flower wilts and from the ashes a hissing snake rises, it’s flaming bite firm and certainly painful as it breaks Wilson’s skin. But all the sick bastard does is laugh.  
  
“I don’t need your company.” Mantis chokes, his voice embarrassingly small and uncertain. Wilson is too close and his breath wet on Mantis’ skin, he can not help but let go of the writhing snake between his fingers. They both silently watch it drop to the ground and turn back into a burned bud.  
  
“Is that why you come by everyday? You gather shame from something that does not carry any with it, don’t you agree? If you need to let off some steam you just take advantage of an incapacitated and broken man?”  
  
“You–“  
  
“Ah, but that’s just what I _am_.” He is too close, warm fleshy fingers digging into Mantis hips and the overwhelming smell of stale sweat and desperation enveloping them. “You are so incredibly powerful, Agent. Everybody in this facility is afraid of you.”  
  
Mantis scoffs. “Except for you, of course.”  
  
“Please, I can _barely_ contain my fear.” Wilson hums.  
  
–

Eli is staring, he has never been subtle, which is something that Mantis likes to exploit for his own benefit. He is still wearing a black undershirt, but even in the dim light of their room that does not leave much room for imagination and Eli almost absent-mindedly reaches out to him before realising what he is about to do and recoiling as if he has burned himself.  
  
“It’s alright… “ Mantis whispers in false calmness and crawls on top of Eli to loom over him. “You can touch me if you want.”  
  
Eli looks up at him accusingly, picking up on the implication. “You said you didn’t want this to happen anymore. You said– you said that stuff like _this_ is disgusting and too much for you– “  
  
“I lied.” He replies simply and studies Eli’s face, searches for indignation, revulsion – but here is nothing but the same tired features that he has never managed to get enough of.  
  
Then there is suspicion, but finally he has those hands on him, tentative and searching hesitantly for warmth or affection or anything else to mask the base want in them. Mantis bites at Eli’s lips and hums contentedly when he feels his friend gasp underneath him, the other clearly abashed with his current discovery.  
  
“W-When did you get these?” Eli lightly pokes one of the metal buds adorning Mantis’ nipples and giggles nervously. “That must have hurt. Why would you do that, doesn’t it make you more sensitive–“  
  
“These are purely for aesthetic reasons.” Mantis shuts him down quickly, but that sadly does not wipe the stupid grin off Eli’s face as he palms his chest, carefully watching for reactions.  
  
Despite it being autumn it is still way too hot and Mantis curses the darn desert for what feels like the hundredth time. He sits back to peel off his pants and undershirt before sitting on Eli’s thigh to go back in to kiss and bite.  
  
“I’ve missed this.” Eli admits breathlessly. “But I don’t want you to force yourself for my sake… “  
  
Mantis’ laugh is cruel and not at all reassuring as he pulls at Eli’s hair to make him look up. “Don’t fool yourself. All I want to do is to cheer you up, boss.”  
  
“Stop calling me that… “ There is obvious conflict in Eli’s voice, but the need for touch is too overwhelming to let it deter him.  
  
–  
  
Despite wearing the mask he still knows the smell is there – rotten odour carrying over Wilson’s breath as his lips brush against the skin of Mantis’ neck. His shirt rides up as he is pressed against the little desk and when Wilson roughly thumbs at his chest an undignified noise slips out of him, the shame too overwhelming.

 “Tell me to stop.” Wilson orders him, fully aware that Mantis has no intention of following his demands. “You should hide that pretty little body of yours better, it doesn’t suit the person hiding behind it.”  
  
Mantis can not move as he is being groped, he just goes slack against the fingers exploring him thoroughly, gasping as he feels his ass being grabbed.  
  
“I bet _he_ loved touching you. I’m almost jealous, it’s just so much fun.”  
  
A stifled groan escapes his mouth when Wilson pulls down his dress pants without a warning, shoving a hand between Mantis’ thighs insistently – he freezes and almost panics, barely able to contain that all too familiar, sickening dysphoria rising in his throat.  
  
“Huh? Now _that_ is a shocker!” Wilson purrs, laughing quietly as he presses against Mantis’ crotch, dipping his index finger underneath the hem of wet underwear, “You’re full of surprises, Agent. And so eager too– “  
  
“Just get on with it!” Mantis spits and curses himself for breaking because he is immediately chastened by harsh circles being rubbed against his sensitive flesh. He doesn’t like this. Does not like it at all – but he is desperate, he _needs_ this to survive – no matter how humiliating this sick imitation of human contact may be, it is the only thing keeping him alive.  
  
Wilson’s grip is bruising on Mantis’ hips, the man’s teeth roughly digging into Mantis’ neck, while an erection stabs against his backside revoltingly – he is going to look awful afterwards, no wonder the Potomac Butcher liked mutilating his victims so much. Maybe he is going to die tonight, too.  
  
Not like he can bring himself to care anymore.  
  
–  
  
“Good boy… “ Mantis mouths as he leans back on his elbows, watching attentively as Eli’s head rests against his inner thigh. “Go ahead.”  
  
“I– ah, don’t really know what to do though… “ Eli blinks sheepishly and nips at Mantis’ skin.  
  
“Like kissing.” He supplies unhelpfully and waves his hand to gently nudge Eli closer between his legs. “Just– touch me.”  
  
And Eli does, careful and hesitant as he pulls down Mantis’ briefs, his face glowing with arousal and embarrassment when he brushes his hand over the coarse, red hairs winding down Mantis’ pubic bone.  
  
In the back of his own mind Mantis detects a resurgence of dysphoric irritation upon being touched, but the gentleness of the act and the pure devotion behind every movement soothes him as he threads his fingers into Eli’s hair.  
  
Eli makes a small noise when he uses one hand to spread him open, the other firmly digging into Mantis’ thigh because even just that tiny press of harsh nails against his skin is a delicious pain strong enough to distract him from the actual uncomfortable sensation. Mantis grits his teeth because he does not enjoy letting go like this, though he tells himself that this is all for distraction’s sake – a small price to pay to get his friend’s mind back to where he wants it.  
  
“Go harder.” He demands and Eli pushes his tongue and sucks more forcefully than his obvious uncertainty would let to expect – he is so dedicated to this position between Mantis’ thighs that he does not question himself or them anymore, and for once Mantis can not even bring himself to object against what they are doing.  
  
“I like this– “ Eli rasps against him. “Does it feel good?”  
  
Unable to hide his relieved grin, Mantis nods and pushes him down again, deeper.  
  
–  
  
Wilson seems to have something else in mind though; the lack of murderous intent behind his actions is confusing and nurtures the anxious tension.  
  
“Are you playing the helpless victim to avoid responsibility or have you finally found a position that helps you justify your own sinful behaviour?” The words are no more than an urgent grunt right behind his ear as Mantis feels himself pressed against the wall, the hollow noise of a belt-buckle being undone echoing through the cell. “Please don’t look down on me anymore, Agent. Doesn’t this prove that we’re on equal footing?”  
  
He wants to spit back, counter and defend himself but his basic senses overwhelm him; the stench of Wilson’s foul breath and the greasy, chubby fingers digging into his flesh as his legs are spread apart for better access. The noise that escapes him when he is penetrated roughly, the salty sweat he tastes on his lips as it drops down from the tip of his nose and the ugly cracks in the paint on the wall in front of him.  
  
“But can you justify _this_?” Wilson taunts him. “That you are perfectly capable of escaping me and resisting? You aren’t weak, Agent.” A groan. “I’ve seen what you can do, it seemed so very impressive!”  
  
“ _Shut up_ … –!” Mantis voice is no more than a pained whine, less from the bodily and more from the mental anguish in which he is trapped.  
  
“You disappoint me… !”  
  
In the back of his mind some small part of him registers how different this is – how different _he_ is from Eli physically, as if that had not been evident from the start, and not visually but the way in which Mantis is touched and held and pushed and hurt. How his own naivety and animalistic desperation has led him to this, it is clear he deserves this – a punishment for his own hypocrisy and treatment of the only person that has never sought to hurt him.

Mantis does not cry, nor does he break.  
  
Instead he decides to enjoy.

–  
  
Smiling at him, Eli leans up and over him for a kiss – both spent and covered in sweat fuelled by the merciless heat that pushes its way inside their room.

“Thanks.” Eli mumbles, and it is honest. “It makes me happy when I can make you feel good.”  
  
_Of course it does_ , Mantis thinks to himself, _we are symbiotic after all – our own happiness relies on the other’s._  
  
“Do not let this get to your head.” He chastises instead but laughs quietly when Eli wraps his arms around him to hide his face in Mantis’ chest. “Look at you, you’re like a dog.”  
  
“Calling me a dog is no insult, they are noble and loyal creatures.”  
  
It feels too comfortable, too familiar – something they have craved for so long, yet it is incomplete, sabotaged by Mantis’ insecurity over his own faults. It is obvious that indeed Eli is the loyal one, that he is reliable, devoted.  
  
He looks down at the mess of blonde hair, hesitantly pulls up a strand of it to curl around his fingers. He is undeserving of this, would barely deserve to serve – he is well aware of that.  
  
It is not hard to feel guilty for claiming something, someone as perfect as Eli, still smiling against him and somehow still blissfully unaware of this terrible crime Mantis is forcing him to be complicit in.  
  
He can not bring himself to stop, though. In the end he is a selfish person, has always been, only benefiting of others for his own good, and the times _he_ has been the one to be taken advantage of, it had been well deserved, exciting even to experience a change of dynamics – there is no vindication for his behaviour, his thoughts, his being –  
  
_Stop brooding. I am… sorry for earlier._ Eli reminds him softly, a gentle kiss at his collar bone. _Go to sleep._

Mantis nods, this – after all – is his only salvation, the foundation of his very being to do as he is told; to bring satisfaction to the one he has greedily turned into his own.  
  
–

He walks out of Wilson’s cell without a word, shirt still slightly ruffled and his fingers itching with anticipation to return the next day.

**Author's Note:**

> im sorry lulu


End file.
